One Step Closer
by Plesiosaur
Summary: 40 Weeks universe bubbline backstory short! If commitment is the goal then there are some important steps along the way that Marceline wishes she could just skip. Like bringing her new girlfriend to meet her weirdo father for dinner. But however nervous she's feeling, Hunson has it worse. When did his little monster grow up and start dating? Awkwardness is an Abadeer family trait.
1. Chapter 1

**Regular readers will remember I mentioned I was working on a super secret two chapter short? Well this is the first half of it. Y'all should send a heap of love to the ever so wonderful Sanguine Sovereign and Aubs for the concept suggestion and proof reading on this one. You guys rock!**

 **As ever I have personal stuff going on which sucks but... yeah, I'm sure you don't need to hear the gory details. Suffice to say I've been ruined for helping people forever. Did you guys see Rehearsal finished? If you were waiting for it to end before going to read it then now's your chance! I can't recommend highly enough that you read it and send some love to the incredibly talented CountingWithTurkeys who is just an amazing author.**

 **Content warning: implied but not graphic homo sexing, awkwardness, feels, historical character death.**

* * *

There were three things that Hunson Abadeer could be certain of at that exact moment in time, hurrying away from his daughter's apartment block with his face burning in horror. Firstly, Marceline had a new girlfriend. At least, he hoped to God it was a girlfriend and not a random hookup because somehow that would have made what he'd overheard even worse. Secondly, that the girl in question was named Bonnie. Marceline had been extremely vocal about that particular name, repeating it loudly while her father froze in horror just before his fist could connect with her bedroom door and announce his presence. Lastly, he was sure and extremely relieved that neither of the young women in the apartment had known he was there. Ok, maybe four. Four things. He was also absolutely certain he'd never, ever make the mistake of dropping by unexpectedly again and using his spare key to let himself in when there was no answer at the front door, even if the thud of distant bass from within announced Marceline was home and listening to obnoxiously loud music again. Thank God, at least the bedroom door had been closed and he was spared the visual to match the horrifying sounds he'd overhead. Hunson hurried off down the street and away to where he'd left his car, still trying to delude himself that his daughter was not an adult yet and definitely wasn't having loud gay sex all over the place. He went home and consoled himself with a large glass of whiskey.

It took a few weeks but eventually he found the courage to pick up the phone and call her. He timed it for a Friday evening, figuring she'd be out someplace partying and he'd be able to leave an answerphone message. No such luck; the call connected after a few rings.

"Daddy, hi!"

She sounded out of breath, _oh hell why did she sound out of breath?_

"Everything ok, Pumpkin? You, uh, sound a little out of breath." Hunson asked with a cringe.

"Yeah, I literally just walked through the door, the elevator broke so I took the stairs. Why?"

"Oh! No reason, I just worry about you, and if you're looking after yourself." _And if you're being careful and taking whatever precautions lesbians are suppose to take?_

"Uh... ok? Daddy, literally, I just walked up a staircase. I didn't climb Everest, I don't need an oxygen mask or anything. Are _you_ ok?"

"Fine, fine, I'm fine. A little achy behind the knees, and, you know, tired from work. But otherwise I'm fine. Just fine."

"...Are you sure? You're saying 'fine' a lot."

Hunson took a steadying breath and realised he might have oversold how completely and totally fine he was. So he changed the subject.

"Anyway, I was wondering if you'd like to come by for dinner one night next week?"

She was quiet for a moment and Hunson had a sudden epiphany that his daughter was nerving herself up to asking him something. He already knew what it was and he'd still not completely gotten his head around it but he figured that if he was given a deadline to at least have an outward appearance of being ok with it he'd find it easier.

"I, uh... yeah, that'd be nice. Um. Maybe we could go out someplace? There's a good pizza place in town that know not to poison me."

That was a red flag for sure. Marceline was trying to take her new girlfriend someplace neutral to meet him just in case he unexpectedly turned into a homophobic bigot and it was awkward to be at his home. Hunson recognised that strategy because it was the exact same one he'd used more than twenty years earlier when he'd introduced Marceline's obviously non-white mother to his own vaguely racist parents. Take them to someplace public so they're less likely to cause a scene, she must either really like this new girlfriend or be really scared he wouldn't approve. Maybe both. Hunson frowned to himself when that thought struck; had he ever sat his daughter down and explained just how much he loved her and how little he cared about the gender of whoever she was dating so long as they made her happy? Maybe not. He made a mental note to do just that as soon as convenient moment presented itself.

"Of course, Pumpkin. Shall I book a table for two?" he replied, instead of all the swirling questions in his head.

"I- uh. If, um, if it's ok? I might... uh... bring someone along to meet you? If, you know, that's ok. I... like, uh, a girlfriend sorta person. Y'know? Is that... You're ok with that?"

What luck. A convenient moment had just presented itself.

"I would be honoured to meet your new girlfriend, Pumpkin. Have I ever told you that you never need to be scared to bring people home to meet me? I'm just happy you're happy. My little monster, all grown up and in love-"

"Daddy, _stop_ , you're making it weird!" Marcy wailed in obvious embarrassment. Hunson grinned to himself, he could almost feel her fierce blush down the phone.

"A table for three, then. Seven o'clock, Friday?" he asked instead.

"Can we make it later? Just, uh, Bonnie might not be off work by then. She gets delayed on a Friday a lot, uh... just, y'know, work stuff."

And now she was being cagey about her girlfriend's job. Interesting. Hunson had a brief moment of overwhelming panic because _what kind of job was busiest on a Friday night_? Was his daughter dating a stripper?

"Oh, of course. Later. Eight? Nine? When is she going to be finished?"

"Probably like, half eight would be fine. I'll just meet her after she finishes and we'll come down from the h- work."

"From the..?"

"Hospital." Marceline muttered. She sounded annoyed with herself for slipping up and telling him where this mysterious girl worked. Hospital. Unless strip clubs had started having much weirder names than back in his day Hunson suddenly decided he was getting more ok with his daughter's girlfriend with everything he heard.

"Oh ho! Hospital, eh? So, you got yourself a cute nurse?"

"Shut up, Daddy! Bonnie's not a nurse, stop assuming things just because she's a girl and works in a hospital!"

"So then is she a receptionist? Administrator? There's a lot of jobs in a hospital, Pumpkin. I can keep on guessing all night."

Marceline had once tried to explain music to her father without a lot of success. But one of the things that stood out in Hunson's memory from that conversation was that the pauses and the quieter moments were just as important as the crescendos and the loud, exciting parts. And that same thing was also very true of his daughter. From the tense silence on the other end of the phoneline Hunson could summarise that Marcy didn't want him to know what her girlfriend did for a living and it wasn't because she was embarrassed. Because... she always accused him of overreacting, didn't she? She got her dramatic streak from him and if she wasn't scared of him disapproving then the only logical assumption was that she was scared he'd over-approve. Hunson felt his grin widen.

"Are you dating a _doctor_ , Pumpkin?"

"Just, like, she's only a junior doctor, Daddy. Please don't make a fuss-"

"A doctor in the family! Oh, I'm so proud! Imagine when the boys at the golf club hear about this! Michael's always bragging about his granddaughter Susan taking over the family business one day, well now my daughter-in-law is a _doctor-"_

 _"Daddy!_ We're not married, we've only been dating for six months and Bonnie doesn't even believe in it!"

"But you have discussed the possibility of getting married?"

"Urgh, stop! I'll see you next weekend, Daddy. Please try to be normal."

Marceline hung up the line with an audible huff and Hunson beamed to himself. He was feeling a lot more comfortable with the situation.

...

As the week went by Hunson became more and more nervous about meeting his daughter's doctor girlfriend. True, she had a good job. And Marceline herself was on course to be a doctor of music in a couple of years. But this Bonnie girl was an unknown; he'd done the math and come to the conclusion that she was at the very least a year older than his daughter, what if she was overbearing and controlling? He realised with a jolt that he'd never met anyone Marceline had dated since she'd been in school and he'd had dinner with her and Ash. He'd seemed such a nice boy but from what Hunson could tell things had ended badly between the two of them and shortly after Marcy had announced she was over boys completely. Naively her father had assumed that meant she was uninterested in dating anyone, maybe that she was going to focus on her music instead. It had only been a couple of years later when she'd turned up over summer break from college with a rainbow streaked shirt bearing the legend 'Love Is Love' and casually mentioned she was going to a Pride parade the next day that he finally put it all together. The hair shaved into an undercut on one side that he'd just assumed was a punk thing. The flannel-shirts-open-over-a-vest aesthetic. Those chunky red boots she always wore even in summer. Her friend Jake's obvious horror the day Hunson had casually threatened to murder him if he did a single thing Marceline didn't give her express consent to. Oh. He'd felt like such an idiot, such a bad father. Had he really been so far removed from his daughter's life that she'd come out to everyone she considered important and he wasn't even an afterthought for her? That had been a turning point and he'd spent much more time getting to know her after that, even buying her the concert harp she'd mentioned as a birthday gift that year to her confusion and delight. Hunson knew he'd never make up for all the years he'd missed but he hoped he could get to know his daughter as an adult. And of course, that meant accepting that she was having adult relationships. It was difficult. Part of him still saw the squishy faced newborn with the shock of black hair and chubby little cheeks when he looked at her, surely she wasn't old enough to be having girlfriends and getting intimate with them?

"Daddy, hi!"

He was broken out of his panicked thought cycle by his daughter's voice announcing she'd just arrived at the restaurant. And she was on her own, which was actually something of a relief. With hindsight he wasn't completely certain he was ready for this, he-

"Bonnie's just parking the car, she managed to find a ridiculously cheap second hand sports car that she's fixed up and it's her pride and joy. So it must be parked in a space where there's absolutely minimal chance of anyone accidentally scratching it or, you know, looking at it. Such a dork." Marcy announced with a fond eye roll.

"You're girl's a petrolhead?" Hunson asked conversationally as the waitress showed them to their seats. It was all he could think to say, other than making some awkward comment about her being good with her hands which he absolutely didn't need to think about.

"Yeah, she used to mess around with cars when she was a kid, between a million other hobbies and afterschool activities. Lemme see, she used to figure skate with her brother, we went skating for our second date. Uh, and she can ballroom dance. And I dunno, she's done kick boxing and various martial arts for years. She's got deadly aim with a firearm too, her Dad's ex military and insisted she learn to handle a weapon safely the moment she could stand without help. You don't wanna be on the opposite paintballing team to Bonnie. Oh, and here she is!"

It hadn't escaped Hunson's notice that his daughter had started to ramble about her girlfriend and that she seemed every bit as nervous as he felt. He stood from his seat to welcome the new arrival to the table, glad that he still had his manners even if his brain seemed to be letting him down.

The young woman approaching them was slender and athletic with light red hair held in a knot at the back of her head. Hunson could easily see why his daughter was so taken with her. She was conventionally beautiful with a soft oval face and very blue eyes that were accentuated by the sapphire necklace she wore. Well at least Marceline had good taste in women, Hunson thought grudgingly. He tried not to notice that his voice even sounded gruff in his own head.

"Daddy, this is Bonnie. Bonnie, this is Daddy." Marceline introduced them when the young woman reached their table. She held her hand out politely and Hunson took it, trying not to think about lesbians and what they did with their hands in general and how weird the whole thing was.

"Marceline introduced me as 'Daddy' but you should probably just call me Hunson." he told her, hoping it came across as funny and not just weird. "Pleased to make your acquaintance. Marcy was just telling me about your car."

"Oh, the Porsche! Yes, I was very lucky to get such a good deal on it." the redhead replied, eyes instantly lighting up. "It needed a lot of work and I did have to strip the engine down and rebuilt half of it but it runs beautifully now. Are you interested in cars, Mr Abadeer?"

"Please, call me Hunson. I've driven a Mercedes for years now, couldn't say I would know enough to rebuild the engine but I do appreciate the fine engineering on the suspension. She drives smooth as butter." he replied, glad they were on a safe topic because he could have talked about his car all night.

"My father drives a Mercedes too but I've always found them a little lacking in acceleration. Luxurious, but I prefer something a little more sporty for myself. I miss that extra horsepower and torque especially if I'm driving at speed."

Marceline was making a show of rolling her eyes and looking through the menu.

"You realise that when you talk about cars all I hear is white noise, right?" she asked them.

"Pumpkin, be nice. We have a shared interest, it wouldn't hurt you to learn to drive too, you know." Hunson chastised her.

"Yay, me with the spacial awareness of a concussed walrus, behind the wheel of a one-tonne death machine? Sounds real safe." Marcy muttered, although her cheeks were heating with embarrassment.

"I'm sure you just need more practise this time." Hunson added, trying to be charitable because it was clear that his daughter had inherited his wife's lack of driving skills and was touchy about it. Unfortunately the words were poorly chosen and she glowered at him.

"Thanks, Daddy. Why don't we just tell the whole damn restaurant? I was only seventeen at the time! I had one _tiny_ mishap with his car-"

"Which is perfectly understandable, since the accelerator is right next to the brake and it was only your first lesson-"

"And how was I supposed to know headlights were so expensive to replace anyway? It wasn't even that badly smashed up-"

"The back of that other woman's Range Rover was much more badly damaged, however. She was very nice about it." Hunson finished with a nostalgic smile.

"The moral of the story is that I suck at driving and if you value your car, your life or any combination of the two, don't even think about letting me behind the wheel." Marceline sighed. Bonnie just smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"You need lessons with a professional driving instructor is all. Once we've built your confidence a bit you can have a go driving The Morrow."

"You named your car The Morrow?" Marcy asked with another eye roll.

"The last three letters of the licence plate spell MRO, it's cute." the redhead shrugged.

"You say cute, I say dorky."

They were saved from their bickering by the waitress coming to take their order and Hunson was privately glad. He wasn't sure if his daughter was being a little mean to her girlfriend because she was nervous or if they were just naturally the sort of couple who playfully teased one another but the last thing he wanted was to end up in the middle of a row. Did lesbians row? He wasn't sure come to think of it, he had a vague idea from somewhere that they didn't. But then, in his experience women were crazy so surely a relationship composed entirely of women would be double the crazy? And what happened when they got their periods, did they sync up and have hormone crazies at the same time? He'd shared a house with his teenage daughter when she'd had hormone induced mood swings in the past, the logical conclusion was that Bonnie was either very brave or a little crazy herself. He'd somehow need to figure out when was the wrong time of the month to visit.

"So, Marceline tells me you're a doctor." Hunson started once the waitress had taken their order. Bonnie blushed and smiled modestly.

"Only just. I graduated this summer and I'm just starting a placement with the children's cancer unit at the local hospital. It's gonna be a few more years of part time study along with getting experience at work before I'm doing anything really worth talking about." she replied.

And very suddenly there was an elephant in the room, Hunson realised. Because of all the specialisations she could have picked, his daughter's new girlfriend was going to be a cancer doctor. It cost him a lot of self control not to glance at Marceline's face to see if she was frowning.

"It's hard work but I'm sure you're already aware of that. Best of luck with it." Hunson murmured, unable to think of anything more to say.

The conversation slipped into silence as they waited for food to arrive and Hunson took the opportunity to closely examine the subtle interactions between his daughter and her girlfriend. They shot each other small glances from the corner of their eyes and exchanged private smiles, he was sure at one point they were holding hands under the table. He'd never seen Marceline like that before. If Hunson had to name it he'd say his daughter was in love. She looked so much like her mother; they reminded him of himself years earlier and the long repressed ache of loss in his chest was harder than ever to ignore. If this pretty, energetic young doctor was who Marcy had chosen then Hunson would support her every step of the way. He remembered all too well the argument with his own parents about his upcoming wedding to someone they'd disapproved of. His father had died not long afterwards of a sudden heart attack and Hunson had only gone to the funeral because his mother had begged. She'd passed on a few years later when Marcy was only about a year old, she'd never once managed to say anything positive about her granddaughter and however else he'd failed as a parent Hunson had never, ever made Marceline feel self-conscious about being mixed race. Come to think of it he doubted she even knew that his parents hadn't come to his wedding, hadn't accepted his wife or daughter solely because of the colour of their skin. It still hurt, even decades later. Now she was an adult and it was his turn to accept his offspring's choice of partner. She could do a lot worse than a sensible doctor with a good job and a nice car. It still bothered Hunson on some level that she was another woman but he was going to do his best to accept it. He didn't understand it himself and his view of homosexuality had always been mild confusion but dammit, he'd messed up too badly in the past with his daughter and he'd never seen her as obviously besotted with someone as was she was with this Bonnie girl. So Hunson pushed the awkwardness out of his mind and when his pizza arrived he concentrated on eating and asking his daughter how her PhD was coming along. The relief was plain on her face and no matter that he still had reservations Hunson could at least congratulate himself that he was trying his hardest to support her.

"Well?" Marcy asked anxiously the moment Bonnie disappeared to the bathroom after dinner.

"Well what? Are you expecting me to give her a score out of ten?"

"Daddy!"

"Very well, Pumpkin. I'd say she's an overall high nine, very pretty and gregarious but just a little pushy and domineering. You're in for a lot of negotiating and compromising if you want to make the relationship long term but it seems like a fair pay-off. And she has a good taste in cars and in women. So you have my blessing, not that you ever really needed it. I'd hazard she could even make a solid ten on a good day."

Marceline stared at him and Hunson chortled, pleased with his own joke. It wasn't often he managed to stun his daughter into silence, most of the time it was her sassing him.

"This. This is why I took six months to tell you." she finally informed him.

"Pumpkin, she's lovely. And you're in love with her and she's in love with you and I'm happy for you. What else did you want me to say?" Hunson asked her. Marceline shrugged and avoided his eyes. It was clear that she was uncomfortable discussing matters of the heart with her father and that saddened him on some level, he couldn't help but wonder if her beloved foster parents had had to wait six months to meet her girlfriend. Probably not, but no matter how hard he tried he'd never have the sort of relationship with his daughter that Simon had. Hunson couldn't find it in himself to dislike the other man for it though, how could he hate the man who'd raised and protected her when he'd been too ill to be the father she deserved? He was envious, to be sure. But he couldn't change the past and at least his little girl had grown up with a loving father figure when he'd been too crippled by guilt and depression to be there for her. She'd grown into someone he was proud to call his daughter and she was in what appeared to be a loving relationship with an intelligent, beautiful woman who obviously adored her. Hunson couldn't be happier for his daughter and when they said their goodbyes after dinner he very nearly managed to push what he'd overheard that day at her apartment out of his mind. Almost.

…

"Sorry my father's a weirdo." Marcy announced as they watched his ramrod straight, suited back disappear out of the restaurant.

"Hey, don't even worry about it. You should just meet my Dad, Hunson at least sounds like he has a sense of humour. So is he always weird about shaking hands or am I just unlucky?" Bonnie asked.

"I dunno. Why, was he weird?"

"He was trying to shake my hand without really touching it. And he didn't look terribly comfortable with me saying the word 'lesbian' out loud. Did you have a tough time coming out to him?"

Marcy just shrugged as they walked up the street to where the second hand Porsche was waiting for them. How had she come out to her father? It wasn't a strong memory so she supposed it must have gone ok.

"I don't really remember sitting down and having a big conversation with him about it. I just… sort of casually mentioned girls I liked, or dates I'd been on. We didn't even really start talking until I was in uni and you're the first girlfriend I've ever taken to meet him. But you're also kinda my first girlfriend. The others were more… y'know."

"One night stands, you big slut." Bonnie teased.

"Not all of them! Some of them were weekend affairs." Marcy countered, grinning self-consciously. "I was far too cool and busy to go around falling in love with anyone."

"So what does that make this? A six month affair?" the redhead asked, leaning in expectantly from where she'd slid into the driver's seat.

"True love." Marcy replied softly, just before their lips met.

It was true, every word. She'd drank and smoked and been a slut and never once thought about actually spending more than two nights with the same woman because, where was the fun in that? Besides she'd had a high flying music career that took her all over the country and sometimes to exotic foreign locations, how was she supposed to even think about having a girlfriend when she had a whole world to explore? And besides, if she never let anyone close enough to love them then she'd never have to deal with being left behind by anyone. Never have to watch someone she loved walk out the door for the last time, never have to hear them say that they were sorry but it was over. Never have to receive a phone call from the British Embassy in India to tell her that her estranged wife's death certificate had finally been processed.

But that had been before the night she'd met Bonnie, before commitment became a goal instead of a phobia. And she suddenly got why people signed on for decades of monogamy, why sex with just one person for the whole of their lives wasn't automatically terrifying. Why her father had never remarried, because if he'd felt about her mother the way she felt about Bonnie then she could understand why limitless grief was his response to losing her. The redhead was a bossy control freak with an expensive taste in cars, she was thoughtlessly amazing in bed and sang like a beached whale when she didn't realise Marceline could hear her from the bedroom when she was in the shower, she was a die hard feminist and somehow still a Twilight fangirl and didn't see how those things contradicted each other. And all of that and more combined to make her irresistible and incredible and just impossibly amazing in a way that Marcy still didn't feel able to really explain. As they drove away together Marceline was struck by a thought. If commitment was her goal, if this was as forever as she desperately hoped it was, then they'd just passed an important milestone. One set of parents down, one to go. One step closer.


	2. Chapter 2

**A great big thank you to everyone who followed/favourited/reviewed so far, you guys rock! This chapter is twice the length of the last one I'm afraid, although it does cover a longer time period. As I've stated before in author notes for my stories, the views here are not my own, they're the views of my characters. So if you're offended by people poking fun at Catholicism or religion in general, please be aware that there's no offence intended and like I said, the views are held by the characters not the author. Having said that, this chapter is heavy on the Catholic Guilt. As someone raised in a family that was Irish Catholic on one side and strict Methodist on the other I feel like I'm in a good position to explore some of the themes raised here.**

 **As ever the real kudos here should go to the amazing Sanguine Sovereign and AUBurnSky93 for their prompting, proofing and all-round awesomeness. If you've not seen it yet go read their story In Plain Sight, an awesome real-ish world AU featuring your favourite vampire. It's brilliantly funny and well written, I can't recommend it enough.**

 **If you don't already know, all you need to understand the joke in the third section is that Faith was the first solo album by George Michael after he left Wham. Music jokes abound, because as usual I'm a classic rock nerd.**

 **Content Warning: conflict, google-translated German (sorry, it's mostly been replaced by Swedish in my memory since I started learning it), innuendo, down-right ladysexing, homophobia, sarcasm, implied covert racism, backstory.**

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 _"Of all the girls I've known, and I've known some-"_

"It's boys. She's singing it wrong."

 _"-Until I first met you I was lonesome-"_

"Bonnie, tell her, she's singing it wrong."

 _"But then you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light and this whole world seemed new to me!"_

"She's singing it wrong and she's speeding! You know this is a forty mile per hour zone, right?"

Bonnie sighed, whether at her little brother's nagging or her girlfriend's obvious delight at annoying him wasn't immediately clear.

"Ned, you didn't have to come with us." she said, twisting in her seat to look at him. She wasn't a fan of the grubby second hand Honda Marceline had finally been guilted into buying but at least it was nicer than her brother's pickup. There hadn't been room for three in the Porsche and Marcy needed the practice with her driving test coming up, so as uncomfortable as she was with being the passenger Bonnie let her girlfriend drive.

" _Bei_ _mir bist du schön! Please let me explain! Bei mir bist du schön means that you're grand!"_ Marcy sang with a grin for her partner.

"It means 'to me you are beautiful'." Neddy corrected her sulkily.

"Nedward, I'm flattered. I really am."

"My name is short for Eduarr, not Nedward-"

"-but even if I was into sweaty, smelly, garbage dudes I'm afraid it would be a no from me. I'm already dating your more attractive and successful sister." Marceline informed him over her shoulder.

"Play nice." Bonnie sighed, although she couldn't quite keep from smiling a little at being described as attractive and successful. Neddy glowered at her and Marceline beamed and accelerated a little faster, just because.

"I'm gonna rock this driving test." she announced into the silence when her song ended.

"Sure, sure. You know you're still in third gear and we're moving onto the motorway?" Bonnie asked.

" _Motherfucker_. Next time you're driving us to the airport."

"There's only two seats in The Morrow and you refused to get in Neddy's car."

"Then we'll take a taxi! This is stressful, I don't like it."

"Dummes englisches Mädchen kann nicht einmal fahren." Neddy muttered, earning himself a glare from his big sister.

"What did he say about me?" Marcy demanded.

"He said it'll be nice to see our parents. Please, you two, stop fighting. We're nearly at the airport."

They were, and it only took Marceline four attempts and three engine stalls to park the car.

"You're a fucking moron." Ned hissed the moment Bonnie slid out of her seat and went to find a trolley for their luggage.

"A fucking moron who's done acts of homosexy love with your beloved sister more times than I can count, though. Does that bother you, Ned? That I've touched every inch of her skin with my lips, and she's had her hands all over my- Hey babe! Need a hand?"

He had never been happier to see Bonnie hurrying back towards them with the trolley, oblivious to the fact that her stupid gross girlfriend was deliberately goading him.

"Are you two just going to sit there and make me load all the bags alone?" Bonnie asked them briskly.

"Sorry, babe. I was just admiring my awesome parking job." Marceline replied with one last smug grin at Ned's furious face.

"You're gonna be fine for your test, love. I have every faith in you." Bonnie told her, missing the way her brother rolled his eyes when she leaned in through the driver's window and placed a lingering kiss on her girlfriend's lips. "Now come on, we don't want to be late."

"You're disgusting." Ned growled at Marceline as they trailed after Bonnie towards the airport building.

"Disgustingly well laid." she spat back gleefully.

"One day Bonnie's going to realise what a loser you are and dump your garbage ass."

"Sure she is. Because what sort of weirdo would want to be with a hot, successful musician with a well padded trust fund and a nice spacious apartment in the trendy end of town? So she's gonna realise that she's apparently _not_ into cute rich girls who treat her like a princess and make her moan every night, and then what? You think she'll want to go live in the woods like a hobo with you? How much do you wanna bet on it?"

"I hate you, Abadeer."

"Not if I hate you first."

"That doesn't even make sense!"

"Are you two still fighting? For God's sakes, I'm that damn close to throwing both of your passports down a drain and going to Munich alone!" Bonnie interrupted them as they entered the building. Neddy and Marceline both fell silent but there was plenty of glaring and poisonous sneers between them as they joined the line to check in.

It wasn't like Marcy enjoyed annoying Ned, she thought sulkily. Well ok, it wasn't _only_ that she enjoyed it. He was just so difficult to get along with. The first time they'd met she'd genuinely made an effort to be nice to him and he'd just been rude, obnoxious and reeked like a compost heap. And infuriatingly, Bonnie was blind to it. When Marceline had asked her if Ned was always an asshole with people she'd been offended and they'd very nearly had a row about it. And from everything she'd heard Marceline was expecting her girlfriend's parents to be more of the same. They were going to be stuck there for a whole week, there wasn't even a chance to escape when they inevitably made her feel uncomfortable. But as they checked in their hold bags and Bonnie laced their fingers together and shot her a quick smile Marceline remembered exactly who she was doing this for. Sometimes she got this feeling, at the oddest moments, and it was like her chest was getting tight and stuff again. Because how could anyone even exist being as in love as she was with Bonnie? How could they walk around living their lives feeling like there was an ultra slo-mo atomic bomb going off in their chest just by being close to someone? It happened when she was lying still half asleep watching her girlfriend dress for the day or when they lay together in bed with her lips lazily exploring the exquisite dip between the redhead's neck and her shoulder, drinking in the soft sighs her attentions elicited. And she had this weird feeling like there was no way physically possible for them to be closer but in an odd way she wanted to melt together, wanted to feel completely fused to her girlfriend. It was a crazy sentiment and not one Marcy felt equal to explaining. All she could say about it was that she could spend a whole weekend just lying in bed stroking the redhead's skin and have the time of her life. And that was most of the reason she'd wound up in an airport departure lounge waiting to fly to Germany and meet some homophobic old assholes instead of enjoying her Easter break. Because Bonnie had asked her to, and Marceline would have done anything to keep that intoxicating smile on her girlfriend's face.

"So, I should have mentioned this before." Bonnie started as they made their way to the departure gate, "But I'm kinda a nervous flyer. I know, it's dumb, I've been all over the world. I don't remember a time when I didn't know what being on an airplane was like. But I dunno, takeoff and landing just freak me out. So, uh, look just hold my hand and don't laugh at me, ok?"

'A nervous flyer', she said. That turned out to be something of an understatement. By the time the plane was at cruising altitude and the fasten-seatbelt signs had gone dark again Marcy was pretty sure her entire hand and lower arm were just one big bruise. At least Ned looked pleased about it.

...

"DAD!"

"There's my little princess! How was your flight?"

Colonel Roger Sugar was... well. Hard to describe, really. Was it normal for a man who hadn't seen his daughter in nearly a year to smartly salute her instead of hugging? Even Hunson hugged, and he was the very definition of uptight. But the tall, bald man with the exact same sapphire blue eyes as Bonnie saluted them all in turn before moving forward to shake Marceline's hand and she really didn't know what to do except cling on and try to shake back with reasonable force.

"A good strong grip! I bet that comes in handy." he pronounced, smiling at her. Marcy fought the urge to glance at Bonnie for any clues on how she should react.

"Uhh... I, uh, it's probably from playing guitar and bass a lot?" she tried after a moment, because the chances her girlfriend's incredibly straight-laced father was making a sex joke were slim to none.

"Ha! I bet it is! Right, Ned, don't let the ladies carry their bags, be a gentleman."

"Be a gentleman, Nedward." Marcy grinned at him, and she shoved her bag hard into his arms the moment his father's back was turned. But the younger boy was sneering at her nastily and Marceline got the feeling she'd definitely lost the home-ground advantage. They followed Colonel Sugar out into the bright Easter sunshine and Marceline took her first breath of the Munich air. It smelled like uncertainly, unfamiliarity, unease. Also like currywurst. She wrinkled her nose; it should be illegal under the UN convention against torture to make anyone of Indian descent have to smell curry powder being abused like that, Marcy thought sourly.

"Dad, can I get a currywurst?" Ned asked innocently when he noticed the disgusted look Marceline was shooting the fast food stand by the airport entrance.

"Sure, we'll get four and make a picnic of it. What do you say, girls?" the Colonel asked, turning from where he and Bonnie had been chatting.

"I'll pass, thanks. Deathly allergic to garlic and I dunno what they make the sauce from." Marcy muttered. She met her girlfriend's eyes, pleading silently. Unfortunately the lure of snack food from her birth country was far greater than Bonnie's sympathy for Marcy's allergies.

"Yeah, I'd love a currywurst. Don't worry, sweetie. I'm sure you can just get the bread bun." she added, trying to smile like it was in any way a fair compromise. Marcy gave her another _look_ which Bonnie ignored and they trooped across to buy three disgusting hotdogs dripping in curry-ketchup while Marceline nibbled on the end of a dry bread bun and tried not to gag at the smell. She didn't think she'd ever seen Neddy look so smug.

The drive to the Sugar residence was mercifully short, just a half hour from the airport. Marcy tried hard not to notice that Colonel Sugar's Mercedes was significantly older and cheaper looking than her father's but it was hard to ignore. She missed the fancy leather seats and space-age dashboard covered in dials and electronics. The Colonel's car was... retro, Marcy decided. The polite word for it was retro. They pulled up outside of a steep-roofed white house set in a modest garden on a quiet residential street. It looked respectable enough, there were a wealth of window boxes overflowing with colourful spring blooms and in the middle of the neat lawn was a small apple tree covered in what looked like little multi-coloured fruits. Marcy squinted at it in confusion as they got out of the car and Ned was pressed into bag carrying service again.

"Oh, they're Easter eggs! The, uh, Easter egg tree is in fruit." Marcy announced in confusion as she got closer.

"Dad, you already decorated the _Ostereierbaum_ without me?" Bonnie asked her father, sounding a little disappointed.

"We saved you some space to put a couple of eggs on the back, but your mother didn't want to leave it bare when the Hasselbachs have had theirs decorated and displayed in their front window since the middle of last week. You know how she gets. There should be time for you to paint some after we get back from Mass tonight." he replied, rubbing the side of his neck sheepishly.

"Wait, hold the phone, Mass? As in, Catholic Church Mass with all the celibate dress wearing dudes and the incense and crazy chanting?" Marcy muttered in an undertone once her girlfriend's father was busy unlocking the front door.

"Did nobody tell you? Mama's very religious. It's Easter, we go to Mass every day." Neddy informed her with a nasty smirk before Bonnie could open her mouth. "I hope you learned how to make Confession in German."

"I'm not going to Confession." Marceline hissed at Bonnie.

"You don't have to, he's just being a dick. Can we just go to like, one Mass tonight to keep Mama happy? Then I promise, we'll beg off the rest." Bonnie pleaded with an imploring smile.

It was her puppydog eyes that did it. Marceline was going to open her mouth and say _no,_ _not in a million years, no Mass, no church, I am an atheist, your mother can deal with that or I can go get a hotel someplace instead._ But those big blue eyes that she loved so much were full of a mix of hope and adoration and instead by the time the words had made it all the way to her tongue they came out as;

"Sure. One Mass. And at least tonight once we get to bed I can make sure you've got some hot sins to confess if you're gonna go back to full Catholic schoolgirl mode."

"Oh, uh, well actually we're gonna be in-"

"Mein Kleinen! Meine lieben Kinder!"

Marceline had seen photos of Frau Sugar before and knew to expect that the older woman looked almost identical to her daughter. But it was still a little disconcerting to see Bonnie hugging basically herself but older. They were talking in rapid German and all Marceline could do was stand awkwardly in the doorway waiting for someone to fill her in on what was happening.

"Und ist das dein... Freund?" the older woman asked, turning to Marceline as the smile slid from her face.

"Mama, this is Marceline. My _girlfriend._ " Bonnie told her mother. From the way the redhead stressed the last word Marcy immediately knew something less than fully accepting had just been said in German even if she didn't understand what. Frau Sugar took her hand without any hint of a smile on her face.

"Pleased to meet you." the older woman told her with a frown. "You will be sleeping in the study, come. Bonnibel, you may take your bags up to your bedroom."

Wow, separate rooms. Marceline narrowed her eyes very slightly as she followed her girlfriend's mother into the house. Frau Sugar didn't know it but she'd just issued a challenge. There was no way they were making it through a whole week without her getting her girlfriend off at least once, especially if her mother was scared to let them share a bed.

...

If Marceline had thought being taken to Christmas services at the local Anglican church with Simon and Betty had been the most boring thing ever then Catholic Mass was something else again. A whole new dimension of tedious. She tried to follow the bits of the Latin service she recognised from her classics lessons in boarding school but it was all about Jesus and stuff and she was soon fidgeting and moving around in her seat restlessly. She tried hard not to let Bonnie's father know how dull she found the whole thing, she'd ended up sitting next to him and separated from the rest of the family, but evidently he'd noticed she was less than completely enthralled. Marceline jumped at the tap on her shoulder and looked around guiltily. But the older man just smiled and held a finger to his lips to indicate she should stay quiet, then slid an earbud across the pew to her before settling back in and appearing to pay rapturous attention to the sermon. With a quick glance to check nobody else had noticed Marcy slid it into her ear and grinned. Her girlfriend's father was sitting in church with his hyper religious family on one of the most holy days of the year and he was secretly listening to Iron Maiden. Colonel Sugar was evidently a man who liked to live dangerously; Marceline wouldn't want to be him if and when his wife found out about the earbuds he kept in the top pocket of his church suit.

They sat through the service of Number of the Beast, the liturgy of Fear of the Dark and the recitation of Run to the Hills without complaint and Marcy even earned herself a thankful smile when her girlfriend leaned forward to glance past her father and check the other girl wasn't dying of boredom. Luckily the black earbud blended in with her hair and there was no way Bonnie could see it. Despite being an atheist the redhead probably wouldn't appreciate her father and girlfriend bonding silently over rock music when they were supposed to be taking church seriously for her mother's sake. It was still a difficult thing for Marcy to keep her head from bobbing in time to the music and stop her fingers automatically taping along the edge of her pew, following the bass line on imaginary frets. She slid the earbud free and carefully handed it back when the family stood and went forward one by one to receive holy communion. Marcy stayed in her seat; not only did she absolutely not want to take part in the ritual but as a non believer who was only there out of family obligation it would have been an insult to the faithful if she'd tried. The congregation were finally blessed and sent forth to spread the holy word. It was with no small measure of relief that Marceline followed them back to the Colonel's car.

"So then. Marceline, how did you find your first Mass?" Frau Sugar asked as she turned in her seat to pin her daughter's girlfriend with a calculating smile.

"I enjoyed it more than I'd expected. It rocked." Marcy replied. She tried not to look directly at the knowing grin Colonel Sugar was shooting her way from the edge of his rear-view mirror.

Frau Sugar turned back to face forward with a satisfied smirk and said something very smug sounding in German that made Bonnie and surprisingly even Neddy roll their eyes. The younger boy sighed and replied, still in German, and Bonnie nodded fervently before gracing her brother with a bright smile. Had he just _defended_ her, Marceline wondered? But of course she had no way of knowing since the whole family were now engaged in a rapid conversation in German and she had no idea what was going on. That continued all the way back to the house and Marcy entertained herself by staring out of the window at the passing suburbs and humming quietly to herself.

By the time they arrived home it was getting late and everyone was hungry and tired. It was a relief to discover that Frau Sugar had left a thick broth of lamb and vegetables on low heat on the stove before they'd gone out and it was a simple task to set the table and fill a bowl each with the piping hot stew. There was a heavy looking loaf of seeded rye bread and a pat of golden butter too, it smelled incredible and Marcy's stomach was rumbling before she'd even taken her seat at the table. She hadn't quite gotten hold of her spoon before Bonnie's hand on her knee stopped her.

"We say grace before food." the redhead muttered under her breath before Frau Sugar took her place at the head of the table. Marcy stared at her.

"I'm exhausted and _starving_." she hissed back sulkily. It had been a long day, she would be sleeping on a stupid air mattress in the study and she'd been forced to go to church almost as soon as she got there. So she wasn't in the mood to have her dinner delayed for a second longer than absolutely necessary.

"Perhaps our guest would say grace?" Frau Sugar asked pointedly when everyone was settled around the table. Marceline felt every stare turn to fix on her and squirmed uncomfortably.

"Uh... ok. I'll give it a go but, uh, I'm a little rusty," she sighed when nobody swooped in to rescue her like she'd hoped. It had been an awfully long time since those distant Christmas services with her foster parents. "Our Father who art in heaven, uh... give us some bread and forgive us if we're trespassers? Ah look, I don't know the words. Thank you for the food, God. We appreciate you cooking for us, it smells delicious. Amen."

Colonel Sugar snorted and then Neddy burst out into a suspicious coughing fit and then the whole table was laughing, all except for Bonnie's mother who was staring stone faced at Marceline.

"Oh, lighten up, Greta, the girl doesn't pray the way we do." Colonel Sugar told his wife when he noticed the way she was glaring. "Let's just eat, I'm sure the Almighty knows you're grateful."

He took up his spoon and began eating enthusiastically; soon the rest of the family followed suit until it was only Frau Sugar who was still staring at Marceline in stony silence.

"I suppose," she finally said with a sigh, "that the important thing is that you have faith in something. Do you have faith, Marceline?"

She tried to rein in the sarcasm, she really did. But Marcy was tired and sick of being put on the spot, she just wanted to eat in peace. Before she'd even considered that it might not be her very finest idea she'd opened her mouth and let whatever answer came into her brain first flow out.

"Yeah, I've got Faith, somewhere. I think it's in a box in the back of my music room. I'm not much of a George Michael fan but it's a classic, I got it in a bundle of old records my foster dad gave me. I always preferred Queen or Bowie but I guess Faith was a pretty good album too, certainly better than anything he did with Wham."

Colonel Sugar burst out into uproarious laughter again and Bonnie offered her a smile that was half apologetic and half wearily indulgent; it wasn't like she hadn't anticipated that her girlfriend and her mother would clash. Neddy just glowered and turned to his mother to explain the joke in German. Frau Sugar frowned and replied, saying something that made her son smirk nastily. Marcy figured it wasn't a compliment.

"Ah, you crack me up!" Colonel Sugar announced, wiping his eyes with his napkin. "So good to have someone with a sense of humour at the table. Right, Greta?"

"I have never understood your English humour, Roger." his wife informed him coldly before returning to her meal.

Neddy was the first to break the silence, he spoke softly in German to his sister who replied with a nod. Their mother joined in the conversation and even the Colonel added a few words here and there. Marceline sat in silence eating her stew and trying not to wonder if they were talking about her. Of course it would be the height of arrogance to assume the family had nothing to discuss except their guest but she couldn't help feeling that yet again her sarcasm and poor impulse control had gotten her into trouble just like Betty had always warned her they would. With any luck it would at least deter any further probing from her girlfriend's mother. The hand Bonnie placed on her knee under the table and the reassuring squeeze she gave made it all worth it anyway; Marcy shot a small glance to the redhead from the corner of her eye and was rewarded with a careful smile.

"So then what exactly is it you have faith in, apart from rock music?" Frau Sugar asked pointedly when there was a lull in the incomprehensible conversation. Dammit, why couldn't she just take the hint and let it go?

"I... dunno. Nothing, I guess. I never really thought about it." Marcy shrugged.

"But surely you were raised in a faith? Christened? What do your parents practise?"

"Uhh... well Mum was a Shaiva Hindu, she worshipped Shiva primarily and was really into a lot of New Age stuff too. She didn't really get too devout until she got sick though. Daddy's technically Jewish although he's never been to a synagogue in as long as I can remember. And my foster parents were sort of vaguely Church of England Anglican. None of them were very religious except for Mum but she left to go to a yoga retreat in India when she started getting sick, before that she wasn't really into it hardcore. So I guess I'm a Hindu-Jewish-Anglican-Atheist."

There was Bonnie's hand on her knee squeezing again and Marcy wondered if exhaustion was making her overshare and her girlfriend was silently warning her to tone it down or if it was an offer of support. But everyone was finishing their food and Neddy was being pressed into washing up duty; it seemed like a good time to escape to the study and get some sleep. Marcy and Bonnie slipped away quietly for a few minutes alone together to decompress before they were forced into separate rooms at opposite ends of the house.

..

Mornings were the best. Those small hours before dawn when the rest of the house slept and Bonnie slipped wraith-like into the study, when they could snuggle up and talk in whispers together without worrying about judgemental glares or thinly veiled homophobia. But the minute Marcy tried to slide a warm hand under the hem of her girlfriend's pyjama shirt she was shot down ruthlessly.

"Not while my mother is in the house. It's literally the biggest turn off. We can kiss and snuggle but I'm not going further than that. I know what my family are like, the minute I get your panties off someone is gonna come crashing in here for some reason and catch us." Bonnie sighed.

"Babe, you're killing me here. It's been like, five days, Can't we just risk it, this once? I'm literally dying." Marcy begged quietly.

"Figuratively. You're not going to die from not having sex for a week."

"You don't know that for sure."

"Yes I do. I'm a doctor."

"I know, it's so hot."

"Marcy, if you can't keep your hands to yourself I'll go back to my room."

" _Fine_. But let the record show that it's your fault for being such a tease."

"How can you be a fuckboy without being a boy? You're a medical mystery, Marcy." Bonnie giggled quietly. She rolled back into the warmth of her girlfriend's arms after a moment though and allowed her lips to be claimed for another intense make out session. The lack of intimacy was getting to her too but she was determined to stick to her guns. No fucking while her parents were in the house, it was distasteful.

"It's starting to get light out, I should get back to my own room before Dad wakes up." the redhead sighed regretfully,

"Nooooo, stay a bit longer? It's barely even six yet." Marcy pouted.

But even her very best adorable sulk couldn't sway her girlfriend who pressed one last kiss to her lips before getting up and disappearing out of the study door. Marceline was left alone in the gloom to stare at the ceiling and bookshelves and meditate on how much she disliked her girlfriend's mother. The Colonel was alright, he seemed fun and honestly Marcy didn't see what Bonnie meant when she said he was more uptight than Hunson. She'd have given anything to have a father like him when she'd been small. But Frau Sugar was the bane of her existence. So far whenever they went anywhere she placed herself firmly between Marceline and Bonnie to prevent any telltale hand holding and when their well meaning neighbours had asked about the Sugars' guest she'd loudly announced over Bonnie's explanation that Marcy was her very good friend from England; she knew that because Neddy had gleefully translated it for her. Marceline had endured almost a full week of sitting awkwardly while the family laughed over her head in a language she didn't understand, some not terribly subtle jabs about her heritage and a few disparaging comments about her career too just for the hell of it. If Frau Sugar thought she was going to get under Marceline's skin by serving beef meatballs wrapped in bacon then she was completely wrong because Marcy wasn't a practising Jew or Hindu so she could eat pork and beef and whatever the hell else she wanted, and besides they'd been delicious. But feigning surprise that anyone even came to see classical music concerts anymore or that there was such a thing as a PhD in it, that had really pissed her off. Especially when she'd gone on to inform Marceline that Bonnie had played the keyboards a little in junior school but had moved on to 'more serious subjects' like science and math. The message was clear: Marcy was just not clever enough, male enough or white enough for their daughter.

Frankly the whole week had been dumb. Marcy had plodded listlessly around the shops while Bonnie and her mother bought shoes, she'd sat and picked at her fingernails for an hour and a half while they went to the hair salon and worst of all they'd spent many hours watching German TV. Marceline tried to amuse herself by imagining ridiculous conversations the characters might be having but in the end she excused herself early and went to bed long before anyone else. Which by pure coincidence worked out in her favour next morning. She found herself awake a lot earlier than usual due to going to bed so early the night before and nobody but Colonel Sugar was up yet. He nodded to her as she stumbled through sleepily and he poured a mug of tea for her before motioning her to sit opposite him at the dining table.

"Are you feeling any better this morning?" he asked sympathetically when she'd taken a few grateful gulps of tea.

"Uh, am I feeling better?" Marcy repeated, confused and still sleepy.

"You went to bed early last night, I thought you might have a headache or something."

"Oh. Oh right, yeah, I feel a bit better, thanks. Still kinda fuzzy and it sorta aches behind my eyes, you know? But better than last night. Are you going to church again today?" Marcy asked politely. She already had a plan forming in her head.

"Afraid so. It's Easter Sunday tomorrow, no avoiding it. But if you're sick then please don't feel obligated to come with us, I'm sure Bonnie won't mind missing Mass to look after you." Colonel Sugar told her kindly. _Jackpot!_ Marceline very carefully did not grin.

"Perks of dating a doctor, I guess. Won't Frau Sugar mind us missing church though?"

"You leave Greta to me, I know how to handle her. I'm sorry she's been so... well, Greta, this whole week. My wife is a good woman but she has strong opinions about how she thinks the world ought to work. I'm not sure she quite understands you."

Marcy nodded and stared pensively down into her tea mug. There were things that didn't make much sense to her about Bonnie's parents, like why the hell they were even together in the first place. But it seemed like the Colonel genuinely did love his wife and accepted her 'strong opinions' as simply a quirk of her personality. She supposed that made sense; Bonnie must have inherited her mother's strength of conviction even if she'd rejected the religious fervour that came along with it. Love was a powerful force, it could make an otherwise sensible person such as herself or the Colonel completely lose their mind over a gorgeous, opinionated redhead. Evidently that initial all-consuming attraction was strong enough to see them through twenty five years of marriage.

Neddy wandered into the kitchen just then, shirtless and gross, and Marcy took that as her cue to go wake her girlfriend and let her know they'd been excused morning Mass due to her unfortunate headache.

...

The Colonel's car had barely pulled off the driveway before they were struggling out of their pyjamas on the narrow single bed in Bonnie's room. Lips she'd missed so badly found that extra sensitive spot on Marceline's collar bone and she gasped in anticipation then in surprise when teeth grazed her skin. So it wasn't going to be slow or gentle and she was so ok with that, in fact the thought of it was getting her worked up and she mewled appreciatively at the fingernails leaving deep red lines down her rib cage. And then she happened to open her eyes at just the wrong angle and fucking _ruin it_.

"Babe, wait. We can't." Marcy gasped hurriedly, wriggling away from Bonnie and pushing her hair away from her face in a gesture of frustration.

"What? Why not? Did I hurt you, did I do something wrong?" the redhead asked in panic.

"No, babe, it's not you. You're amazingly hot and I wanna do all kinds of messed up gay stuff to your incredible bod. No, it's just, um... I feel weird saying this... Jesus is watching."

Bonnie stared at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Jesus is watching? Are you fucking serious?" she demanded after a tense second.

"He's freaking me out! How am I supposed to get into the flow when some ancient semi-nude zombie is staring at me?"

"One single Mass here and suddenly you're worried that Jesus is watching?"

"He's staring down at me all judgemental and stuff like he's saying 'yo, these are the sins I died for, you dirty fuckers'. Can we turn him to the wall or something?"

Bonnie's gaze flicked up over her girlfriend's head to a part of the furniture she never even thought about anymore and suddenly it all made a lot more sense.

"Shit, I forgot Mama put that damn thing back up above the bed. Here, lemme get the fucking creepy old crucifix down and then you're gonna flip onto all fours and we're gonna take full advantage of having the house to ourselves, deal?"

"Did you think I was coming over all Catholic convert?"

"You literally just said 'Jesus is watching' like the massive drama queen you are. You could have just told me the crucifix was freaking you out but no, you had to go for dramatic effect. Now flip over already."

Marcy stretched suggestively on her back, feeling a lot more comfortable now that the stern face of the Almighty giving himself up for the world wasn't gazing down at her every time she opened her eyes. She let a bratty smirk slide onto her face when the redhead turned back to the bed to find her direct order had been disobeyed and made a show of arching her back and letting her girlfriend appreciate all the curves that Marcy knew drove her wild.

"And why would I want to roll over when I was having so much fun right here on my back?" she purred, fluttering her eyelashes and feigning innocence.

"Because," Bonnie replied, coming to crouch over her and slowly letting her fingernails dig into the soft jut of exposed hipbones until her girlfriend was moaning with mingled pleasure and pain, "I am going to do all kinds of messed up gay stuff to your incredible body. That ok by you?"

Marcy didn't waste breath on replying, she was too busy wriggling over onto all fours and staring expectantly over her shoulder.

"Well, what are you waiting for? It's been ages and I'm deliberately goading you, I'm sitting here naked with my ass in the air just how you like it. Aren't you gonna make me scream?"

It was just good luck, Bonnie thought later through the distant haze of sated afterglow, that Easter Mass was such a damn long one. Because if her mother had come home and found them doing what they'd just done together under her roof, with the same hands that she was supposed to use in prayer, there was a good chance she'd find herself disowned. Her mother thought lesbian sex was sinful? She clearly didn't know the half of it.

...

Despite their clever manoeuvring it was impossible to miss that Marceline was feeling better that afternoon when the rest of the family returned. Colonel Sugar made an innocent comment about how good a doctor his daughter must be to have her looking so happy and healthy again in the space of just a few hours, he probably put Bonnie's light blush down to modesty. Neddy narrowed his eyes and muttered darkly that he hoped they'd cleaned their filthy mouths out with mouthwash. If the Colonel hadn't been bumbling around humming cheerfully to himself Marceline would have made a point to breathe in Ned's face.

Dinner was lamb, just for a change, and Marceline nearly choked on a mouthful of it when Frau Sugar turned to her with a fake smile and dropped her bombshell.

"I am glad to see you are feeling better, and just in time for midnight Mass. It would have been a terrible shame to miss both Masses today but it is lucky, you seem well enough to come with us tonight after all."

Midnight fucking Mass. Marceline took a long moment to curse Catholicism and Easter and religion in general inside her head.

Midnight Mass was like regular Mass except she was thinking longingly about her air mattress, or better yet her own bed in her own apartment that she couldn't wait to get back to tomorrow. And the priests' dumb dresses were fancier, Marcy thought sulkily as she took her seat next to Bonnie in the cold church. And she was even less happy about being there than last time because she was on the wrong side of the Colonel to share his ear buds again. Why had nobody warned her that Mass happened more than once a day? What kind of bullshit religion ruined a good holiday by making you go to church twice on the same damn day anyway? Marceline was sulking for all she was worth and worst of all, nobody had even noticed.

No, she was wrong. Worst of all was how long it took. Maybe it was the lack of distraction or the Easter Mass was just genuinely longer than other Masses, but Marcy's butt was uncomfortably numb on her hard wooden pew long before the congregation was blessed one final time and they were finally released. She stood gratefully, rolling her shoulders to pop her spine and smiling a private smile when the hickeys all along her chest brushed the rough denim on her shirt. They could bring her to Mass but they couldn't stop her thinking about hot queer sex all the time. The family had stood too and went to follow the congregation out of the church, but Marceline frowned when she noticed that Frau Sugar was moving off towards the front alter instead.

"Hey, where's your mother going?" Marcy muttered to Bonnie.

"She has this sorta ritual she does every year. We wait in the car." the redhead replied, frustratingly vaguely in Marcy's opinion. But Frau Sugar had stopped, turned around and was walking back toward them with a strange look in her eyes like she was doing it against her better judgement.

"Mama?" Bonnie asked in confusion.

"Bonnibel, wait in the car with your father and brother. You, Marceline, you will come with me."

There wasn't time to reply before her arm was seized and Marcy found herself being marched to the front of the church as everyone else was filing out. She cast a confused and pleading glance over her shoulder but Bonnie just shrugged helplessly and followed her brother out of the door, leaving them alone. Frau Sugar wouldn't forcibly baptise her, would she? Was that allowed? Marceline had a vague idea that it didn't count if you forced someone to get baptised. But they stopped in front of a statue of the Virgin Mary surrounded by little candles and Marcy was more confused than ever.

"What-"

"I was thirteen when my mother was diagnosed." Frau Sugar spoke over her. "The doctors told her that the pain was normal for a mother of five, running around after us all and keeping the house clean as well as working on weekends when my father was home to watch us. By the time they took her seriously she could barely walk. The tumour had pushed out of her bowel and was right through her spine. She died three weeks later, just past midnight on the morning of Easter Sunday. It is the only Midnight Mass I have ever missed, to hold her hand as she passed on. I light a candle for her every year. I though perhaps... Bonnibel told me about what happened to your mother, why you have foster parents. Forgive her, it was my fault for prying. I brought two candles tonight."

There were tears shining on Marceline's cheeks when her girlfriend's mother handed her the candle, and then the older woman fished in her pocket and brought out a packet of tissues too. They lit the candles together in silence and placed them in front of the statue. To Marceline it looked like the flickering firelight was making the Virgin's face move, almost like she was alive and smiling down on them with benevolent understanding. She thought then that she had a much better idea why Frau Sugar took her religion so seriously; the idea that the loss of an earthly mother could be softened by embracing the love of a heavenly mother was appealing in its way. She thought about her own mother, and how she'd turned to Shiva as the creator and protector of the universe. How the loss of an earthly life might be made more acceptable by embracing a metaphysical existence in harmony with a supreme being. She'd laughed at people with a strong belief, made fun of them and dismissed them as crazy or stupid. The next wave of tears that flooded her cheeks were tinged with shame.

"Come child, do not cry. There are a lot of people still walking among us who love you dearly. For better or worse my daughter is one of them, and we should not keep her waiting any longer, she will think I am sacrificing you in here. Come, stand."

Marcy hadn't even noticed she'd sunk into a kneel in front of the statue of the Virgin and she stood hurriedly, still dabbing at her eyes with her tissue. She was beyond shocked when Frau Sugar reached out and brushed a tear from her cheek before pulling her into a brief hug. Then without another word the older woman let her go, turned from the statue and marched off back down the aisle to the door.

The flight home next day was a quiet one. Everyone was tired from being up late and then having to get up with the sun to get to the airport on time. They'd said their goodbyes with one final disgusting round of currywurst and Marcy was finally getting the scent of the damn stuff out of her head a couple of hours later as a sleepy Bonnie napped on her shoulder,

"Marcy?" she asked, not bothering to open her eyes. "Did you light a candle with Mama last night?"

"Yeah. It was sorta emotional. You mother can emote, who knew?"

"Don't be a bitch. She likes you, she wouldn't have done it otherwise."

"I think saying she likes me is a bit of a stretch, babe. She tolerates me."

"Tolerance is the first step to liking."

"No it isn't."

"Whatever. Sleepy time now."

They drifted back to silence and Marceline stared out of the airplane window at the clouds, thinking hard. Bonnie had met Hunson and that hadn't been as awful as she'd anticipated. She'd met Bonnie's parents and yes they were weirdos but what else had she expected? They tolerated her and perhaps that was the first step to liking her, who knew? That was two for two. Time to move onto the next step, and it was a big one. Marceline wasn't much for waiting when she had something to say. She shook Bonnie's shoulder until the redhead opened one eye to glare at her.

"What?"

"I was thinking, it's gonna be kinda lonely going back to that big apartment now Jake's moved out. I got used to having you around all the time when we were at your parents' place. You, uh, wanna move in with me?"

"Sure. My lease is up just about the time Lady's baby is due and I'm not keen to sleep on the other side of a paper thin wall from a screaming newborn anyway. I'm just surprised it took you a whole nine months to ask me."

"I wanted to be sure, this is a big step for me. I love you, nerd." Marcy replied softly. Bonnie propped herself up on her elbow to press a sleepy kiss to her girlfriend's lips.

"And I love you, even when you call me a nerd."

They were too busy kissing tenderly to notice Ned rolling his eyes on the other side of his sister but he was at least learning to tolerate them. Maybe one day he might even like them. It was one step closer to happening, at least.


End file.
